Cabin Fever

Winter's end is nigh; thoughts meander like a honeybee in a futile search for pollen. What happens when there are no flowers? Only cold and darkness. 'Tis enough to make one drown one's sorrows! Alas, the squirrel provides no answers!

In Pittsford: Hangin' the buckets out to dry and perhaps catch some tree blood (aka sap).

Sugar Shack: Makin' maple syrup with tree blood. Think about it.

Sheeps: You can't see it here, but these sheep had devil eyes and are clearly not to be trusted.

From his winter slumber emerges the chipmunk, chip-O-munk or as it's known locally, a "striped sitting mouse". No doubt from their penchant for sitting on anything that isn't nailed down.

This barn is open and ready, baby. Tractor started on the first pull! Spring (sp?) is here!